


Worse Things Than Monsters

by fredbassett



Series: Stephen/Ryan series [10]
Category: Primeval
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-29
Updated: 2012-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-30 07:57:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fredbassett/pseuds/fredbassett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan is called into a meeting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worse Things Than Monsters

The secretary nodded towards the door. “He’s expecting you, Captain Ryan, go straight in.”  
  
Out of habit, Ryan knocked and waited for the acknowledgment.  
  
Lester was standing behind a large desk, staring out of the window.  
  
He turned as Ryan closed the door. “I’m told you’re on sick leave, Captain, my apologies.”  
  
The civil servant’s dark eyes watched Ryan as he crossed the room, taking in the limp and the too-careful bearing. It was clear the man was still suffering the after-effects of his recent encounters. Lester had seen the bruises. He wasn’t surprised.  
  
Before he had chance to speak again, the door opened, this time without warning.  
  
Ryan turned. Oh shit. This certainly wasn’t what he’d expected.  
  
The man he was facing held out a hand, a toothpaste smile plastered across the all too familiar face, “Captain Ryan, good to meet you and thank you for coming.”  
  
“Sir,” said Ryan, blandly, taking the proffered hand. It felt no more sincere than the smile. In fact it felt like a dead monkey’s paw.  
  
The Prime Minister settled himself into a chair and waved at both Ryan and Lester to sit down.  
  
 _Nice of you,_ thought Ryan. _Tell Lester to sit down, why don’t you, after all, it’s only his bloody office. Supercilious sod._ He disliked politicians even more than he disliked their lackeys.  
  
It was obvious to Ryan that he’d arrived part of the way through a meeting. The table contained a tray of tea, coffee and biscuits, plus a pile of what was clearly briefing papers. The soldier didn’t expect to be offered a drink. He was only the hired muscle, after all.  
  
“So what progress have you made finding out who the woman is working for?”  
  
The Prime Minister’s question was addressed to Lester and not him, much to Ryan’s relief.  
  
 _Working for?_ Ryan’s sinking feeling started to plumb new depths. This was taking Government paranoia to extremes, as usual.  
  
Lester carefully avoided the soldier’s eyes as he delivered his answer. “We have found no evidence of any political connections, sir.”  
  
“Then you obviously haven’t looked in the right places yet, Lester.” The smile was gone in an instant. “And as well as that, I want her caught. Don’t let her slip through your fingers this time.”  
  
“The DPP has failed to identify any evidence of an actual offence,” Lester remarked, his expression strictly neutral. He waved at a piece of paper on his desk and added, “Time travel does not appear to be illegal, sir.” _Yet._  
  
The Prime Minister snorted. “If that’s what we really are dealing with here, which from the information I’ve had so far is by no means certain. And in any event, I think you’ll find the Prevention of Terrorism Act covers this most adequately, Sir James.” The voice was as cold and sharp as a shard of ice. “Use that if you can’t find anything more specific. That’s what it’s there for.”  
  
Years of practice in various Government departments came to Lester’s aid and his expression stayed strictly neutral, thoughts veiled behind a bland, impenetrable facade.  
  
 _Terrorism? We didn’t even find an unpaid fucking parking ticket, let alone evidence of terrorism, and by god we’ve looked hard enough. I know so much about the bloody woman I feel like I’ve slept with her myself._  
  
Lester’s eyes flickered to Ryan and just for a second he wondered whether the captain’s distractingly pretty boyfriend had reached the stage of sharing certain confidences yet. And Cutter’s reaction to his assistant’s youthful peccadillo was certainly going to be interesting when it came out. Which it would. These things always did.  
  
The civil servant reached for a file on his desk and handed it over. “The report you wanted from the Special Forces Directorate, sir, with costings. If you want to keep a permanent presence in the Forest they recommend the use of three units on the Anomaly Project.” He hesitated, then added, “But it’s fair to say that the Director isn’t happy.”  
  
“He never is.” The eyes that turned to Ryan were bright with zeal, “I’m sorry about the men you’ve lost, Captain, but as you’re no doubt aware, it’s vital that we find out who is behind this and how they are getting the creatures here, and more to the point, where they’re getting them from.”  
  
Ryan was as good as Lester when it came to keeping a neutral expression on his face. It was a useful skill in the military. _They’re coming from the fucking past, where do you think they’re coming from?_  
  
On balance, Ryan had reached the conclusion that he’d prefer to be stuck in a room with something from the Permian, rather than the man sitting in disconcertingly close proximity to him. He preferred things that made sense. He decided the safest reaction was to say nothing.  
  
“Do I take it you are prepared to sanction the necessary expenditure, sir?” Lester’s intervention drew the pale eyes away from Ryan.  
  
A hand waved dismissively.  
  
 _I’ll take that as a yes, shall I?_ thought Lester, finding it harder than he’d expected to disguise his increasing irritation. He really did loathe politicians. _And no doubt I’ll be the one that gets it in the neck from the Director when we lose another of his people to something that no-one should have to stand and face. Even with a sodding great big gun. And what if we lose one of Cutter’s team? Or a member of the public? How are we going to talk our way out of that one? Correction, how am I going to talk our way out of that one?_  
  
The film company excuse was starting to wear a little thin, in Lester’s opinion.  
  
Lester handed over a single sheet of paper to Ryan. “The Director has said you can pick the other two teams yourself, Captain, he knows you prefer it that way. This gives details of the available personnel.”  
  
Ryan scanned it quickly. Lyle’s mob were an obvious choice. They’d worked well as temporary back up in the Forest. As for the rest? It wasn’t exactly the longest of lists. They had too many lads abroad at the moment, and an equal number on standby in the City, thanks to the man sitting opposite him.  
  
“This Professor Cutter, can he be trusted?” To Ryan’s surprise, the question was aimed at him, rather than Lester, and it slipped into the sudden silence, as pointed as a knife.  
  
 _Trusted to do what?_ the soldier thought. _To keep his nerve while being attacked by giant millipedes and over-sized lizards? To turn out at all hours, heading god knows where, looking for god knows what? And then try and avoid being killed. Yeah, he can be trusted, or you’d be knee deep in reporters right now._ “It’s my job to keep him alive, sir, that’s all. I’m not qualified to comment on his motives.”  
  
The Prime Minister leant forward, his expression intense. “You’ve been closer to them than most, Ryan. I want them watched, particularly Cutter. The woman is his wife, after all. And I want her caught. Remember that.”  
  
Ryan did not so much as blink. Oh, he’d remember all right. But he didn’t like the way this was going. Any of it. He glanced at Lester. The look on the civil servant’s narrow face gave even less away than usual. The smile was bland and unreadable.  
  
Abruptly the other man got up, his eyes now sliding dismissively over Ryan as the soldier came quickly to his feet.  
  
Lester held the door open as his visitor left, without another word..  
  
In answer to Ryan’s raised eyebrows, the civil servant gestured for him to stay.  
  
When they were alone, Sir James Lester sighed. “It seems you are now on official secondment to this project full-time, Captain. Choose your teams and keep enough men on stand-by to follow Cutter to any random Anomalies, but as you heard, a permanent presence is now required in the Forest of Dean as well. Organise it, please. Use the hotel as a base. It seems unwise to attract more visitors to the area at the moment, so we’ve put the Mitchells on a retainer to keep the place empty. I suspect you won’t have a problem persuading Dr Hart to accompany you there should the need arise.”  
  
Ryan’s expression remained blank but his eyes flickered to the desk and he wondered how much detail the papers contained.  
  
Lester correctly interpreted the glance. Somewhat to his own surprise, he decided honesty was the best policy for once.  
  
“You know these people, Ryan, they trust you. And they’re going to need you, I have no doubt at all about that. So there’s nothing in those papers that would cause anyone to want to rescind your involvement. What he doesn’t know won’t upset the Prime Minister’s much-vaunted morals.” And just for a moment Lester looked tired. “Now, I strongly suspect we both need a drink of something rather stronger than tea. Evolution is not a subject the Prime Minister has a natural affinity with. Perhaps I should have invited the Professor in to give a lecture?”  
  
A cautious grin spread across Ryan’s face as he realised that somewhere under the sharp suit and the sarcasm a human being might actually be lurking. It wasn’t something that had occurred to him before.  
  
“I don’t think so, sir. Probably safest to keep them at arm’s length. Unless you want to find another consultant, of course.”  
  
Lester sighed. Probably not. It was definitely a case of _better the devil you know._ He reached into a drawer and brought out a whisky bottle and two glasses.  
  
Ryan looked like he needed a drink, and he wasn’t the only one.


End file.
